The First Date
by Anniexus
Summary: Just what the title says. This is one idea of what their first date could have been like. Disclaimer: I don’t own these characters or STV and don’t make any money off this.
1. Chapter 1

New Fic: "The First Date" (Romance, PG)

Title: The First Date

Rating/Codes: PG, Romance/Drabble

Summary: Just what the title says. This is one idea of what their first date could have been like.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or STV and don't make any money off this.

Warnings: None

When the idea of taking Seven out had first occurred to him, it had just been an absent thought. As the day progressed, the idea solidified into a means to get her out of the usual routine. Seven spent way too much time working. She needed to get out and socialize. That was the mantra he had chanted to himself for three full days until he realized that's all it was... just words.

He had almost put the notion aside to forget about it, but once in his head, the idea of taking her out wouldn't leave him alone. And by the time he worked up his courage to speak to her about it, there had been absolutely no getting around the fact that he was asking her out on a date and it was as much for his pleasure as for hers. He didn't know when that became an agreeable action, but it was.

The plan was simple and traditional. A night out with friends at the movies and then Sandrine's was, according to research and personal experience, the perfect first date. Chakotay hadn't used that exact word when he posed the question to his shipmate. He had actually shied away from the term, choosing instead to call it a means for friends to get better acquainted. Changing the name hadn't fooled the beautiful woman he asked, though he did have a sneaking suspicion that it was a contributing factor to her agreeing to go with him. After all, Seven didn't date. She barely even socialized anymore. Not that she had ever been a social butterfly.

"Are you all right?" Chakotay looked at his companion with mild concern. He knew she visited the Doctor on a weekly basis and rarely got sick. However, Seven appeared distinctly pale and even clammy when Chakotay appeared in Astrometrics to pick her up for their night out.

Seven forced herself to breathe deeply. "I..." she struggled for a moment with how to word her feelings so they wouldn't cause her date distress. Date. That was a word she usually cringed at and even now couldn't associate with what she was about to do. Even when experimenting on the holodeck she hadn't really thought of the Commander as a partner, at least not at first. He had been a compilation of photons and computer programming: an experiment. It wasn't until she had gotten carried away with her newly discovered emotions that she began to think of him as a... well, she really didn't have a word for it.

"Seven?"

"I am unaccustomed to having my personal life open to the scrutiny of the rest of the crew." The words were rushed and accompanied by heated cheeks. This complaint wasn't the only thing causing her anxiety, but it was all she would admit to.

It was suddenly difficult to meet Chakotay's gaze, but she forced herself to look up. Would he be angry or disappointed? She risked a quick glance.

To her surprise, Chakotay appeared thoughtful, not upset at all. He scratched his neck, eyes focussed inward.

"I'm not used to it either," he admitted with a sheepish grin. He hadn't thought of it before, but neither one of them had outgoing personalities, a necessity if one was going to openly date on a relatively small ship - or do what would appear to others as dating. Feeling short-sighted, Chakotay realized maybe traditional trysts, such as public group outings, were unwise.

"I'm sorry. I didn't even think about it. If you like, we can reschedule." He did his best to keep the disappointment from his voice and expression. It was difficult. He had been looking forward to this night the entire week.

"Oh."

It was gratifying that Seven didn't look any happier about that prospect than Chakotay felt. Her rosy lips turned down at the edges and her blue eyes flickered downward, briefly hidden by her lashes.

"Or..." his heart gave a strange thump when she raised her eyes to his, hope endearingly obvious in her guileless face.

"Or?"

"We don't have to tell anyone it's a date."

"You want it to be a secret?"

The idea that anyone would want to keep dating Seven a secret made Chakotay break out into laughter. "No, I don't mean that." He gave a few last chuckles, amused more by Seven's look of confusion and surprise. He wondered if his sense of humour was becoming warped.

"I don't understand."

"I know." He didn't bother trying to explain his laughter. She didn't understand and he couldn't explain it properly. "I wasn't implying that we should keep it a secret. I just meant that we could be discrete, let people know when and if we choose."

She still looked confused.

"We can still call this a date, but it'll be more relaxed, just friends."

"Friends getting to know each other better?" She repeated the phrase Chakotay had used when he broached the subject of their date in the first place. It was also one of the definitions for dating she had come across in Voyager's database. It made sense to her and made her feel less like she was keeping secrets. This was more like keeping Chakotay's privacy. Ever since her lies to the Captain about her obsession with the holodeck, just the thought of lies had filled her with the queasiness of excessive guilt and remorse. Such feelings were unacceptable and to be avoided at all costs.

Chakotay smiled, glad she was grasping the concept. "Exactly."

Seven smiled back. "Then we should go, or we'll be late."

Inclining his head, Chakotay's smile widened and they fell into step together. It was a natural instinct to match his gait to hers. As they passed through the doorway he drew back, allowing her to go ahead of him. He was nothing if not a gentleman.

As they made their way to the holodeck, Seven's movements were swift and controlled, each flex of her muscles an exhibition of a natural strength and subconscious elegance. As always, Seven moved like she was on a mission, each foot placed quickly and carefully forward.

He had never stopped to admire the way Seven moved before now. He took advantage of their alone time to appreciate it.

Seven noticed nothing unusual about herself, lost in her own thoughts. Able to contemplate numerous things at once, she was thinking ahead to what the evening might be like, and planning her schedule for the next day. She wasn't even paying attention to where she was going. It was a good thing she had the hallways of Voyager memorized.

Beside and a little behind her, Chakotay was entranced. She moved the way he thought a woman should... not like a Borg at all. How had it not occurred to him before now to pay more attention? Certainly almost every other male on Voyager had watched her at one point or another, had seen the womanly curve of her waist, the natural swing of her arms. Despite her thin, almost harsh contours, her body moved gracefully. Even in her purposeful stride, her legs moved like water, not like the machine he had first thought her to be.

He didn't like to remember how against her existence he had been when she was first brought onto Voyager. It had felt like a slap in the face to have to deal with the conflicts she started when her abrasive personality rubbed the normal crewmembers the wrong way, to have to see her almost every day and remember. His memories had been his worst enemies then, catalysts for his temper and constant challenges for his outward appearance of calm.

He had never vented his feelings to anyone before, but in those first few months, she had been like a fishing net dragging up all the muck from the bottom of his heart. She had served as a living, breathing reminder that he and Kathryn would never be on the same wavelength, never had been and never would be. And if given an ultimatum, Kathryn would take whatever route suited her best.

More than his conflict with Janeway, Seven's presence reminded him of his pain and heartache when he was forced into a Borg link himself. It had not been easy feeling what the rogue drones had felt, thought what they thought. The physical pain had been coupled with his feeling of helplessness. Both had been eclipsed in the end by the painful way in which they parted. Worse than this, by her very appearance, Seven reminded him that there were still Borg out there and probably always would be, waiting for an opportunity to assimilate anything and anyone.

Most of all, she reminded him of the lives that had been stolen by the Borg. The conflict he felt about this was the worst because even as he hated her for stealing peoples lives, he couldn't help but remember the images of her own lost childhood. Since the day their minds had been connected and he used her dormant memories to distract her from destroying Voyager, those images had been burned into the back of his mind. He couldn't forget them even for a minute. So strong was the Borg link that they felt like his own memories, probably more so than they felt like hers. It drew him to her, despite his fierce resistance.

That the monstrosity of her existence wasn't her fault was perhaps the hardest thing for him to get over. He and many others in the crew wanted to just hate her and her kind and leave it at that. Her working with them and eventually saving their lives made that impossible. No matter how hard he had tried, he couldn't hate the Borg/woman whose human memories were so normal and heartbreakingly sweet, cut off at the end like a nightmare come true.

Now, long over his resentment and suspicions, Chakotay watched Seven do something so meaningless that it was laughable that he was growing so intrigued with every step. Without his conscious choice, his gaze roved over her body, taking in the way her muscles flexed, the shine in her hair, the pink in her cheeks. She was beautiful, like a spring flower coming out to bloom. He had seen roses with the same tint that coloured her cheeks and lips.

Realizing what he was doing, Chakotay's eyes quickly rose to stare at their intended destination: the holodeck doors. He didn't like feeling like a pervert. He had been raised to think of women as something more than just idols to watch. Sure, he was a human man, but he liked to think of himself as a gentleman too and watching Seven didn't seem too gentlemanly. He forced himself to keep his eyes up by remembering his promise that this could be a night of friendship.

The holodeck program was already running. A 20th century theatre was a quarter full of people meandering up and down the aisles, looking for seats in front of the giant, black screen, still enshrouded by a red curtain. A vendor at the back was selling bags of popcorn, the smell of the old snack wafting throughout the enclosed space.

Chakotay tapped Seven on the elbow, wordlessly asking with a look if she wanted popcorn. A slight shake of her head and they moved off to find seats.

They were soon joined by Tom and B'Elanna, who settled down in the row in front of Chakotay and Seven. Harry, Naomi, Icheb, and five others trickled in. They waved or paused to chat for a minute.

Icheb and Naomi took the seats next to Seven as B'Elanna and Tom stretched around to talk.

Chakotay wasn't a hundred percent pleased with this, but it gave him an excuse to keep his mind and his actions in check. Just friends. That was the rule tonight. Internally, he berated himself. Had he taken just a minute to think, they could be having a private dinner and conversation right now.

One look at Seven's smile, though, and his disgruntlement vanished. If it made her happy, he wouldn't argue.

There were cartoons and previews and then the movie, an inane action about mythical creatures that drank blood. It was absurd and badly done, the original language dubbed over so that the lip movements didn't sync with the words. Chakotay didn't know whether to laugh or roll his eyes. He did both, catching Seven's gaze as he did. She raised a hand to her lips, hiding a smile of her own after one of the characters delivered a particularly droll line. The action drew his attention more than he would have expected. It was just so human, so warm and speaking of a humour he didn't know she had.

Looking around her, Chakotay's smile grew. Apparently he and Seven weren't the only ones who found the movie tedious. At some point Naomi had decided to cuddle, leaning her head against Seven's shoulder, where she now slept. Chakotay caught Seven's eye, uncertain what he would find in her expression. There was amusement and something he would never have attributed to her... a sort of maternal indulgence. Her arm curled protectively around the young girl's shoulder, comfortable and comforting. It was endearing. It was a dangerous road.

With a jolt, Chakotay realized what he was doing and he knew it was wrong. She was Kathryn's protege. They had nothing in common. Did she even know what it was to be in a relationship? These things held against him were nothing new. They had always been there, whispering in the back of his mind, but they entered his consciousness now with force. Seeing Seven next to Naomi, side by side like the best friends they were, was a harsh reminder to him that Seven was little more than a child herself in many ways.

"What?" Seven whispered, her gaze curious. She was perceptive, even if she couldn't always identify what she was seeing.

Her eyes were wide in the darkness, highlighting the youth in her face and yet there was a mature intelligence there too. Chakotay found himself trying to interpret every aspect of her expression. He doubted he could do so even if he stared for a year. It was such an insignificant moment, and yet he could sense a growing understanding of her many facets. She was both woman and child, Borg and human, confused and knowing, hidden and yet open. Or maybe he was only seeing what he wanted to.

Chakotay realized he had been staring at her a bit too long to be considered normal. He shook his head. "Nothing."

She frowned, not believing him, but turned back to the movie nonetheless. With others so close, it wasn't the place to talk.

From then on, Chakotay kept his gaze fixed on the screen. Here and there, while sitting in the darkened theatre, he thought he felt eyes watching him. He resisted the urge to turn and confirm that feeling. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know.

The rest of the movie passed too slowly for Chakotay. It was difficult to sit still through choreographed fight scenes and overly gory special effects when all he wanted to do was find a quiet place to think.

Once the last fight scene was done, the curtain dropped and the lights came back on. Seven blinked once and her eyes were once again accustomed to the brighter light. She took the extra moment of visual clarity to sneak another look at Chakotay. She wanted desperately to know what he was thinking. Her efforts to understand the stoic expression were futile and it frustrated her.

She had never been good at reading people's expressions or body language, which was perhaps why there were only two types of people she really enjoyed being around: those like Harry Kim and those like Chakotay. Both were honest and open, but in different ways.

With people like Harry, Tom, B'Elanna, and the Doctor, mind reading wasn't necessary. Every expression openly held their thoughts, waiting for notice. And if you couldn't guess their expression's meaning, then they put it into words. B'Elanna was especially good at that. Even if she didn't understand or choose to acknowledge it, Seven could see the emotions.

With people like Chakotay, Tuvok, Janeway, and Icheb, it was pointless to try interpreting facial expressions. They held their thoughts so carefully that rarely anything gave them away unless they allowed it. And yet if they were asked, they would each explain what they were thinking. That Chakotay had brushed off her question earlier was disturbing because she had no other way to understand him without direct inquiries.


	2. Chapter 2

New Fic: "The First Date" (Romance, PG)

Title: The First Date

Rating/Codes: PG, Romance/Drabble

Summary: Just what the title says. This is one idea of what their first date could have been like.

Disclaimer: I don't own these characters or STV and don't make any money off this.

Warnings: None

He didn't look at her as they entered the bar, not even when choosing a table. He picked a seat as far away from her as he could get and then leaned back in his chair as thought it wasn't far enough. Did he regret asking her out? Quickly, as everyone began to form social groups, she ran through everything she had said and done, but found nothing reprehensible that could explain his distant behaviour. It was frustrating, this sudden need to know what was on his mind. That she couldn't just ask him compounded the irritation.

The Doctor made an appearance sometime during the night, but Seven was too preoccupied to pay him any real attention. Even when he sat next to her and chatted endlessly at her, she only listened enough to know when to nod. She sighed internally, unable to help thinking no one gave her enough credit for her ability to deal with irritating situations.

The Doctor's chatter was like a mosquito in her ear, but she resisted the urge to slap at him.

Despite her control, she knew the crew thought of her as cold and harsh. And despite her constant reassurances to herself that it didn't matter what the crew thought, it was still beginning to bother her. It seemed the longer she spent on Voyager, the more she cared about her appearance in their eyes.

She caught B'Elanna watching her and the Doctor with amusement. Seven had to repress a smirk, doubting the engineer could handle half of what she put up with on a daily basis. The Klingon would likely have ripped apart the Doctor's programming one command code at a time had she been the one with the physiology that required weekly maintenance. And yet... her thoughts turned dark. And yet, B'Elanna was the one with the people skills. So long as the half Klingon wasn't angry, she was admired, even liked by the general crew. She was certainly more trusted.

Quickly, not wanting to give away her own thoughts, Seven turned away and caught Chakotay staring. In the second before he turned, Seven scrutinized his expression. As always, it was unreadable. The most she could determine was that he was upset about something. A slight frown and extra crease in his forehead marred his calm appearance. Again, she wondered if she had done something wrong.

Too distracted to enjoy the games of pool or the various conversations of others, Chakotay and Seven gravitated towards each other despite her anxiety and his resolution to keep her at arms length. Neither realized how weak they were when it came to each other. Like two magnets, they couldn't resist each other's pull. They sat and watched the others having fun, not always talking, but not always silent either.

As one hour and then another wore on, Chakotay found himself making small talk, enjoying the honest and utterly simple answers he received from the ex-Borg.

It was very much like her experiments. She hadn't expected that, not really. It wasn't supposed to feel the same. Her version of Chakotay had always been so easy to get along with. She had assumed that was because her version was a hologram, programmed to be what she wanted and needed. Because her scenarios skipped over the initial attractions, the awkwardness of the first date, the first confessions, she had assumed that was the only reason for the success of the relationship. It appeared her theory was wrong. Even though they were only beginning to explore friendship, she felt the same easy comradeship.

He asked about her likes and dislikes, finding himself surprised that she enjoyed classical music and was learning piano from the Doctor. He filed that bit of information away, wondering if she would play for him. He didn't realize her favourite colour changed now an then from blue to red to pink or even that she had a favourite colour until he asked. She liked fresh fruit even more than cheesecake, hated coffee, and more than the headache later, she didn't like the feeling of losing control when she had alcohol.

He admitted to feeling the same way about a lot, but edited his answers to even more. It would take a lot to get him to admit that his favourite colour was quickly becoming the shade of blue that tinted her eyes, that he wanted to watch her play the piano to see if she would add her own style to his favourite pieces. He wouldn't admit that he suddenly regretted not having musical talent to share when she had an abundance of it. He liked the way she smiled at him, like they were sharing a private joke, one that no one else would ever hear. He liked that he didn't have to struggle for a topic to discuss because she enjoyed talking about mundane things like work. And if they lapsed into silence, then that was fine by her too. It was simple and it was easy, not something he would ever have expected. He liked that too.

Too late, he realized the angle of his feelings, that he was liking his time with her just a bit too much. He tried to halt his thoughts, but they kept going on without him. It was just too hard to not be attracted to the woman - that's all he saw in her now - and want to be closer. He imagined things he'd like to do with Seven and continued realizing new things he liked about her.

They weren't the first ones to leave, but they didn't stay to the end of the evening either. Thankful for once for early morning shifts, Chakotay used this an excuse for him and Seven to leave together, careful to keep his expression polite and friendly, like their arrival and exit wasn't being silently choreographed to look more innocent than it really was. Seven proved to be more skilled at duplicity than he would have thought. No one looked twice as they said their goodbyes casually and exited. For all the world, they looked as though they were no more than acquaintances.

Once out in the hallway, they walked together again, careful to keep an appropriate distance from each other as they continued asking questions. Every now and then a hand or shoulder would touch, brushing against the other person until it was stiffly pulled away, out of shyness or embarrassment. Chakotay wondered if Seven felt the heat, the almost tangible thrill of energy between them when this happened.

Every time their hands brushed, he felt a jolt go all the way up his arm and he had to stop himself from grabbing her hand and entwining their fingers. By her sudden silences, he thought she might feel it too. He marvelled at it. For a first date, they had covered a lot of ground. And yet, it wasn't that surprising. They had been together on the same small ship for a long time now. He already knew her better than he had known any other woman he'd asked on a date. Considering how easily Seven answered questions about herself - even some of the more personal ones he'd delved into - he suspected he might know her better already than he did Janeway.

Once again, Chakotay found himself watching Seven walk. It was almost too easy to match his casual stride to her rhythm. Because he had thought about it on and off all night and because the close of the evening was coming on so quickly that he subconsciously knew this would be his last chance, Chaktoay's hand rose, seemingly of its own volition. It touched the small of Seven's back for only a moment, a few seconds before he realized what he was doing might not be the best idea he'd ever had.

He watched Seven's face carefully, looking for evidence that he had crossed a line or caused insult. Besides turning her head ever so slightly at the touch, she gave no sign that anything had happened. Chakotay wondered what that meant.

Then, a sigh.

It wasn't loud and Chakotay wondered if Seven even realized she had done it, but it was a sigh of disappointment in any case.

Perhaps she was disappointed that he had taken such a liberty with her. That explanation didn't seem right. If she had a problem with being touched, she would say or do something... like break his arm.

With a feeling of epiphany, Chakotay wondered if she was disappointed because she wanted him to touch her. As far as he knew Seven had only ever been on one date before this. She had no boyfriend, few close friends, and no one she interacted with outside of work on a regular basis. The Doctor counted, but only to a degree. Photons and forcefields were no comparison to warm flesh and the knowledge, however subconscious, that your partner could and did constantly change, that they liked you because of attraction, not computer programming.

He imagined how that sort of life would feel. He didn't have to imagine too hard. His own periods of isolation were like stints in the desert. Humans are instinctually driven to seek companionship, he thought to himself. And it had been years - eighteen to be precise - since Seven shared a real closeness with anyone. Was she starved for contact, for the simple enjoyment of another being's touch, even a platonic touch? He would be. He was.

They made it to the lift and stood together in silence. It was the most awkward ride of Chakotay's life. They didn't say anything and no matter how hard he tried, Chakotay couldn't think of anything to say that wouldn't sound worse than the silence. The minute felt like an hour. Chakotay's hand rose, and fell several times, wanting to settle on Seven's back again, until he forced himself to clench the appendage at his side.

He snuck a glance at Seven's face. She appeared mostly as she always did. Stoic was the usual characteristic one would apply to her, but there was something else lurking in her expression. Her usually clear eyes were focussed inward, concentrating on some internal thought. Seven's pale fingers, five encased in metal and five elegant and whole, were all clenched at her side. The similarity between their postures settled Chakotay's internal debate. Still a bit worried she might hit him, he lay his hand where it wanted, instinctually, to be.

Seven felt the movement before she even felt the light, almost timid pressure of Chakotay's hand on her back. It was a completely new experience, this hypersensitivity to another person's movements. She wondered if it was common for humans who had just one date - there was no denying that's what it was anymore - to feel so connected to the one they were with. She didn't think so, but then she had little experience and it could be her imagination.

A tiny sigh escaped her before she could stop it. The sound embarrassed her, but she couldn't help it now, nor could she stop herself from leaning a little into the hand at her back.

Chakotay didn't say anything, just allowed his hand to rest in the curve between ribs and hips.

So simple a thing, and yet it felt incredible. Seven had no words, no explanation for the pleasure.

Chakotay's large hand was warm and surprisingly gentle where it rested. She concentrated on the feel of it, the way his fingers didn't push or grip but supported, almost as though holding her up with their ridiculously light pressure. It was so strange, this strength she felt through the connection. She didn't want the feeling to end. Chakotay held the rest of his body perfectly still and calm, as though waiting to be pushed away. She had no intentions of doing so.

If given the option, Seven would have willingly stayed in that position with him for the rest of the evening, maybe even encouraged more... more what?

Her yearnings broke off with no experience to guide them. All he had done was place a hand on her back. How absurd that such a simple action would bring out these thoughts and feelings in her. She wanted - no, she craved more physical touch, but had no idea what should come next and no idea how to ask for it.

Suddenly she needed space. She needed to clear her head of these unusual thoughts and figure out what was happening.

In the furthest recesses of her mind, the part naturally inclined towards self preservation, she could feel the threat of the ominous ticking looming, coming closer with every treacherous emotion.

The lift doors opened and Seven led the way out, moving quickly, so quickly in fact that Chakotay wondered if he had been wrong. Maybe she hadn't wanted him to touch her. Maybe that he was a commanding officer had been the only thing that kept her temper in check.

Chakotay's fingers shifted and Seven forgot the threat of the Borg failsafe.

They continued on their way. Chakotay's hand fell away from her back to preserve their agreement for discretion and to hide his loss of confidence. He settled into step next to her once more, watching her out of the corner of his eye.

She was frowning, though she didn't appear angry. More than anything, he wanted to ask her what she was thinking. The way her forehead crinkled in thought wasn't encouraging and he decided he might not want to know the specifics.

He remembered his doubts from earlier. They seemed both silly and completely valid. Perhaps the idea of asking Seven out had been a huge mistake. He was thankful they were keeping things quiet, just between them. And yet, he had enjoyed himself, had found her intriguing and even entertaining at times. She held his attention far longer than any other woman on Voyager. That brought him up short. He missed a step, thankful that Seven wasn't paying close enough attention to notice him almost trip on his own feet.

When did that happen? He wondered at that thought, and yet knew it to be completely true.

She interested him more than anyone. Even when he held a torch for Kathryn, he hadn't felt so... intrigued, like his whole day was being centred around her. He enjoyed asking Seven simple questions that no one else would, questions that seemed superficial but were the brushstrokes that made up the masterpiece of her mind. He found her childhood desire to be a ballerina - borne from her parents taking her to see The Nutcracker - excessively fascinating. How odd, he thought.

The cargo bay doors appeared too soon for Chakotay's liking.

For Seven, the end of their evening brought both relief and a sense of deprivation that she didn't fully understand. The desire to sort through her thoughts and the events of the evening was nearly overwhelming. Were she with anyone else, she might have disappeared into her refuge without more than a hasty goodbye. However, she was with Chakotay, a commanding officer, and the first subject of her most romantic interests - however brief and holographic the experience might have been. She stopped just outside the doorway, turning to say a brief goodnight and thank him for the evening.

"This was... fun," said Chakotay. He hesitated only for a second, thinking that 'fun' didn't quite fit, but it was all he could think of.

Seven raised a brow and nodded shyly. She didn't think it was the right term either, but was at a similar loss for a description.

"Would you like to get together again?"

Her head snapped up, surprise evident on her face, and Chakotay couldn't help but puzzle over what she could be thinking. What had she really thought about their evening out? Had the same doubts that plagued him bothered her as well?

"I..."

"A real date this time," he pressed, uncertain where the flow of words was coming from, but unable to stop. The invitation bubbled up from somewhere deeper than his controlled thoughts. "I think I owe you that after my poor planning for tonight."

"You don't owe me anything." A very brighter hue of pink rose to her cheeks and she looked down.

"All right, I might not officially owe you, but I still think you should get the proper experience." He wondered if she would pick up that he was teasing, trying to lighten the mood. He liked the colour of her blushing cheeks, but he didn't want her to feel awkward or shy. "Unless you're not interested."

Seven met his eyes, but only briefly. "I would like to." She took a deep breath, steadying herself for an honest answer. She forced her eyes to meet his, to try and exude a confidence she didn't feel. "I found your company tonight... agreeable."

"Really?" He wondered if he misheard. The corners of his lips twitched upwards.

"What should we do next?" Her shoulders straightened a bit, a reflex she had when she was uncomfortable. Still, it was an encouraging answer even if it came in the form of a question.

Chakotay's smile widened. "Anything you want."

"Then..." Seven took a breath to steady herself, almost tripping over the final word, "it's a date."

Chakotay nodded his head, bidding her a good night, and Seven couldn't help the answering lift of her own lips. She continued smiling even when the doors had slid closed and she stepped up to her alcove. As she reflected on the evening and thought about their promise for a proper date, the smile grew.

The End


End file.
